A review by zefrog
Sin Against the Race by Gar McVey-Russell

challenging emotional hopeful informative reflective sad medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? Yes
  • Diverse cast of characters? No
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.0

"The true ugliness of the closet is its subtlety. It eats away at your soul bit by bit and you don't even realize it. If you never deal with it or come to terms with it, the ultimately the closet will destroy you. Being out can be hard, but it beats the alternative." (p184)

Sin Against the Race is not perfect as a piece of writing but it is a powerful and emotional page turner of coming out story. I regularly welled up while reading it.

Not perfect because the syntax and style are marred by a few duff notes. The writing is a little clumsy at times, particularly in the early pages, and, while McVey-Russell has captured the voices of his cast well-enough to be credible to my foreigner's ear, he isn't always quite so assured with his own tone of voice as narrator. Mostly he keeps to a simple, sometimes mildly poetic but always very readable, "neutral" kind of language, but from time to time a discordant and unexpected, admittedly often witty, note is introduced that jars with the flowing melody of his words.

He also has a tendency to suddenly drop new elements on the reader without explanation as if they should already be known (A salient example: the fact that Alphonso and Bill, who have only just met, know each other to be gay and explicitly acknowledge the fact without having discussed it in a prior scene seems incongruous). In the same vein that shows a new author perhaps not completely in control of his story,
Spoilerthe complete reversal in Alphonso's father's character and outlook is, I think, too great and too sudden to be completely believable.


The ending could have perhaps been tighter. The book, which is a collection of film-like scenes of varied length, feels like it went a little beyond its natural end, as if the author didn't quite know how or when to let his characters go. Perhaps he simply didn't want to let them go.

The narrative, which follows the syncopated pattern of a dance, two steps forward, one step back, is laced with references to jazz and blues music, with which all the characters appear to be as enamored and knowledgeable as the author himself. Indeed the book comes with its own (not quite complete) playlist. While this cleverly underscores the often bitter sweet experiences of the characters, such a wide-spread interest for those genres, particularly from twenty year olds, feels slightly unlikely.

Thankfully these are only minor niggles that fail to truly distract from a sometimes harrowing, but consistently enthralling story told with incredible warmth. The characters are as alive as they can be, despite the rough corners, and the sense of beleaguered but loving community between the queer characters is both charming and empowering to read about.

The concept of Double Consciousness (which is referenced in the book) defines the psychological challenge African Americans experience of "always looking at one's self through the eyes" of a racist white society and "measuring oneself by the means of a nation that looked back in contempt".

McVey-Russell throws that concept back at the face of intolerant black people from the perspective of their queer brethren. In denouncing the overt homophobia present in sections of the black community, often fueled by religious zealotry, he creates an engrossing and moving ode to acceptance, firmly grounded in contemporaneous historical events, vividly showing how both individuals and the people around them must accept their difference. Not doing so can only mean division and pain for all.

The book is also a denunciation of hypocrisy and self-delusion, as well as an exploration of the complex relationships that can exist between fathers and sons.

"'When I am through with you, all the black folks will despise you forever because you told a lie about the savior of the race.' He said, 'I AM the savior. Sin against me, boy, and you sin against the race.'" (p335)

In addition to being highly readable and quite moving, Sin Against the Race is, I think, an important book that articulates most of the issues faced by young queer black men, from one very familiar with them. It is a shame that it readership seems quite limited (if Goodreads is anything to go buy). I hope this changes. Readers would only be doing themselves a favour in any case.